


Starting to Be

by LilithLeeLynn



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Alcohol, Awkwardness, Banter, Binge Drinking, Coping with feelings, Depression, Drinking, F/M, Not drunk sex, Witty Banter, awkward fluff, discovering feelings, drunk sleep over, i mean i tried to make witty banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 11:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10943559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilithLeeLynn/pseuds/LilithLeeLynn
Summary: It became bittersweet to see her each time.With each visit, her excitement quieted slightly and smile dulled. Her laughter slowly lost its ring with each silly joke she cracked or didn’t even make. Everything became forced as she dragged her feet with each step from the Tempest to Tann’s office or wherever she was needed.At least that’s what Tiran Kandros had noticed.(Formally titled 'Shut Up')





	Starting to Be

**Author's Note:**

> I struggled to finish this. Lack of motivation can really kill the story. I feel that you can kind of tell where I started to lose the drive. But I just wanted to get it finished and out there, so here it is. Originally, I had more planned for this story (I planned for this to be a porn with feelings kind of thing) but with the way things were going, I didn't want to set myself up for failure by forcing a story that wasn't coming to me. 
> 
> If I decide to take it there and add more to this, then this first story will be a stand alone piece and additions will be added in the form of a series and rated accordingly. Let me know what you think. If people like this a lot, then maybe I'll add more.
> 
> Enjoy!

The problem with the Nexus was that you could never tell what time of day it was without looking at your omni-tool or catching the last echo of Avina’s voice announcing it as you walked by. Perpetual daylight, while beautiful, had grown tiresome quickly. The allure of perfect weather and bright, sunny skies soon turned sour, then dull. Almost like a delicacy turning to ash in one’s mouth. It all became so boring.

 

Once the boredom set it, it was hard to shake.

 

Of course, everyone handled it in different ways. When everyone wasn’t working, they were gossiping. There was the obvious fight or two, simple bickering really--nothing more than that. Casual sex was another frequent exchange with people. “Blowing off steam” they called it. Cliques later formed after everyone got to know one another. They would pull pranks and joke on each other to pass the time and relieve tension. Again, all harmless.

 

No one was quite sure when it all changed. Everyone just knew that it did.

 

The jokes, were no longer jokes. Insults and threats, replaced mild teasing and banter. Then groups began following through on their threats, and the cliques evolved into gangs. Something was in the air and at any moment a spark would set it all aflame.

 

Tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Everyone had an opinion on matters they had no real knowledge of. Each fight was fueled by stress and agitation. Nothing was going right. Everything that could go wrong, was in fact going very, very wrong. 

 

Then the food started to run out.

 

With no contact from the Arcs, everyone began assuming the worst. That was when the festering boredom turned into fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear that the journey was all for nothing. Fear that, without contact or any world to settle on, they would all soon die. Of course, they were scared.

 

Starvation was a helluva way to go. Slow, torturous hunger that would kill you if someone else didn’t get to you first just to eat you themselves. Survival of the fittest. Isn’t that what the Initiative was about? Survival.

 

And that was when anarchy happened.

 

Nothing controls a raging group of anarchists like a small army of krogan.

 

And nothing slaps said krogan in the face like lies and underhanded deals.

 

With the exiles and krogan gone, there was only a handful of hopeful scientists, scared civilians, and a groups of “leaders” who were no more qualified for their positions than a varren was to be a linguist.

 

How they survived a total of 14 months, was beyond them. But then again, they were apart of the Initiative, and survival was their mission.

 

After all of that trouble, all of that desperation, an Arc finally arrives.

 

The human Arc: Hyperion.

 

It should have felt like a blessing. Like whatever God(s), Goddess, Spirits, who-the-fuck-ever, was listening to their pleas and giving them an actual chance at life. At surviving.

 

At first it felt like the biggest relief in Andromeda. Part of the plan was finally happening, the vision becoming a little bit clearer. 

 

But when that young, inexperienced, little human stepped up and announced “I’m the Pathfinder” everyone outwardly cringed.

 

Despite the pushback, she persisted on. She gave them Eos, gave them Prodromos, gave them hope. She helped here and there with the little things; small acts of kindness that gave people a sense of stability, or closure in some cases. She truly was becoming a hero of the people. Even though not everyone agreed with her methods, things just seemed to work.

 

Her routine visits to the Nexus were a welcome distraction from the nuances of day to day living. She brought with her an air of excitement whether she realized it or not. When news of her ship docked the station would brighten up and smile. It’s first Pathfinder was back, bringing with her stories of achievement and glory. Victories over the kett, alliances with the angara, discoveries of new life outside of their Nexus bubble. She was their window to Andromeda.

 

It became bittersweet to see her each time.

 

With each visit, her excitement quieted slightly and smile dulled. Her laughter slowly lost its ring with each silly joke she cracked or didn’t even make. Everything became forced as she dragged her feet with each step from the Tempest to Tann’s office or wherever she was needed.

 

At least that’s what Tiran Kandros had noticed.

 

“Kandros, sir.”

 

Tiran Kandros put his datapad down on the APEX console and casually glanced over his shoulder. “What is it?” he asked. 

 

He couldn’t remember the new recruit’s name. Odall? Odallix? The young salarian had only been with the militia a few days and primarily reported to Lieutenant Sajax. Kandros would have to get the name from her later.

 

“A noise report just came in, sir,” the salarian said quickly. She tapped on the screen at her desk to pull up more information then paused with a frown. “Reports say the disturbance is coming from the Vortex,” her tone was professional with underlying annoyance.

 

Kandros directed his attention back to his datapad and display on the console. “It’s a bar,” he chuckled, “What else would you expect?” 

 

“Well,” she began sheepishly, then cleared her throat, “the reports say the Pathfinder is at the Vortex, sir.” Her large eyes darted from her screen to Kandros’ back trying to gauge his response.

 

He continued his work as if nothing was said at all, working from data pad to console with steady practiced motions. “So, the Pathfinder is having a little fun,” he said, trying to put an end to the topic.

 

“She’s the only one there, sir.” 

 

Kandros paused briefly, then slowly turned fully around. He and the salarian were two of the few remaining members of the militia in the office. It was now considered a slower time of day, or night depending on your schedule, and most of the others were at home. 

 

He blinked a few times to gather himself. “She’s the only one there and managed to get a noise complaint?” he asked in disbelief.

 

The salarian went back to her screen and typed in a few commands. “Aside from the two employees, I believe she’s the only patron.” She finished a command and a window closed on her screen. “Sending an officer to the Vortex now, sir,” she finished her sentence with a final click of a key on her console.

 

“Belay that order,” Kandros sighed and placed his datapad back down. “I’ll handle it.” He turned and left H.Q. without giving the new recruit another look.

 

“Yes, sir!” she said to his back as he left.

* * *

 

Kandros didn’t know what to expect when the door to the Vortex opened, but he certainly wasn’t ready for what he walked in on. The blaring music should have prepared him at least.

 

There were only three people in the bar: Dutch Smith, Anan T’Mari, and Pathfinder Sara Ryder.

 

Dutch was in his usual place behind the bar mixing what looked like a new drink. He had a datapad next to him where he furiously entered in what Kandros assumed to be notes on his recipe. The young man was shirtless and had worked up a veil of sweat that glistened in the dark purple mood lights. He was smoking a cigarette that hung limply between his lips and appeared to be struggling to keep it in his mouth. His intense gaze would shift from the concoction in the glass to his notes. He grunted a few times then added in another mixer, somehow never looking up at the two women on stage.

 

Anan was currently on the stage wearing Sara Ryder’s leather jacket and waving the Pathfinder’s scarf in the air like a flag. She danced and swayed with it as she attempted to jump from the stage to a nearby table. She managed to land “gracefully” enough, only to send a single glass to tip over and shatter on the floor. She continued to dance to the song that Ryder was butchering.

 

The Pathfinder was gripping the mic on stage, mumbling and slurring the lyrics of a song she clearly didn’t know. Correction, she knew a lyric in the chorus and shouted it proudly, then resumed her colorful rendition. Her casual ponytail had been replaced with a lopsided, matted topknot that flopped around with each sway of her head. She also appeared to be missing a shoe.

 

Kandros walked unnoticed over to the amp by the stereo. He bent down and searched for the cord in the wall and then gave it a quick yank. 

 

Everyone froze once the music was cut.

 

Dutch and Anan immediately looked his way with, what Kandros could make out under their deranged haze, hints of fear in their eyes. Anan quickly made her way off the table and scurried back to the bar where Dutch scrambled to find his shirt.

 

With a hard look and stern tone, Kandros marched to the center of the bar. “What’s going on here?” he demanded.

 

“Kandros!” came Ryder’s cheerful answer. She dropped the mic and sat down to scoot herself off the stage. She tripped on her own foot and barely caught herself before knocking into a table. “So glad you’re here,” she chirped and tried to wipe the sweat from her forehead.

 

Kandros faced her and sighed. “Pathfinder, what are you doing here?” he asked.

 

Sara shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “Having a good time!” she giggled.

 

“Pathfinder,” Kandros began and couldn’t hide the frustration in his voice.

 

Sara smacked the side of his arm playfully. “Come on, Kandros. Call me Ryder,” she said and bit her bottom lip. “You’re always so serious with this ‘ _ Pathfinder _ ’ business,” she mocked.

 

Sara reeked of alcohol. Kandros sighed and dropped his head with a shake, then turned his attention to the two bartenders behind him. “What the hell did you give her?”

 

Dutch managed to find his shirt again and pulled it over his head before answering. “She asked me to make her see the stars,” he said with a cocky confidence that caused Kandros to roll his eyes.

 

Dutch, seeming to notice the glare that followed said eye roll, put his arms up in defense. “I gave the lady what she wanted,” he clarified.

 

Kandros took a step towards him, “And just what the hell was that?” he asked slowly crossing his arm.

 

Dutch shook his head and placed his hands on his hips. He drew in a long breath, “I’m trying to figure that out now,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I was getting creative and we were testing my experiments.” He spread his arms wide gesturing to the bar and half empty glasses sitting untouched.

 

There was this pinching sensation going on right behind Kandros’ left eye that he always felt right before he snapped. He really needed to get some sleep. “So, she’s had a mix of who knows what?” he asked as he slowly closed his eyes to regain his composure.

“It’s science,” the bartender scoffed. “But yeah, that’s pretty much it.”

 

Kandros sighed, once again. “I’m taking the Pathfinder--”

 

There was a hiccup behind him and the sound of a table clattering on the floor. “Ryder!” Sara corrected.

 

He didn’t bother to turn around. “I’m taking  _ Ryder _ , back to her ship.”  Kandros gave the bar another look over before giving the two employees his back. “We got a noise complaint and the last thing anyone needs is Tann hearing about the Pathfinder drunk off her ass in a bar.”

 

Kandros made his way over to Sara, who was struggling to fit her arm in the sleeve of her jacket. He carefully gripped her shoulder when she swayed forward. “Are you going to be alright?” he asked.

 

Sara pushed him back. “I’m not done!” she shouted, “I don’t want to leave!”

 

“Ryder, you’re coming with me,” came his hard reply. Kandros could only handle so much punishment in one night. “Don’t you think you’ve caused enough trouble?”

 

He found himself staring at her glassy blue eyes that struggled to clearly see him despite being right in front of her. 

 

“Fine,” she sighed and finished shrugging into her jacket. 

 

Kandros stopped her from trying to loop her scarf around her neck, opting to do it for her. Spirits forbid she somehow strangle herself. He carefully took it from her and swung it over and around, just enough to hold it in place. It didn’t have the same stylish touch it usually did, but it served its purpose.  

 

Once finished, he glanced around the room to find her missing shoe. Thankfully, he didn’t need to look too far and found it a few steps away.

 

He snatched it up and handed it to Sara, who knocked it back out of his hand and onto the floor.

 

She started to worm her foot into the mouth of the shoe, her arms darting out to catch the closest thing to her for balance. Those arms happened to find a tall turian and gripped his forearms.

 

The only thing Kandros could do was hold her up as she wiggled her foot into her shoe. An awkward quiet filled the room as Sara wrestled with it.

 

Soft snickers were heard by the bar where Anan and Dutch hid. Kandros sent them a cold glare that did nothing to silence them. Dutch continued to laugh at the sight while Anan mouthed the words “so cute” with her fingertips gingerly touching her lips.

 

Having lost his edge of intimidation, Kandros resorted to rolling his eyes and praying the Ryder would just get herself together. The sooner he could dump her off at the Tempest, the better.

 

As if hearing the thought herself, Sara finally slipped into her shoe with one final twist of her ankle. She placed her hands on her hips, proud of her glorious achievement, and looked up at the tall figure before her.

 

“Ready when you are,” she said with a lopsided smile. Sara slowly blinked and let her bleary gaze linger on Kandros’ chest.

 

Not wasting any time, Kandros turned her around and pointed to the door. Giving her a gentle push for good measure, he followed her forward and out of the bar. 

 

Slowly, Sara staggered out the doors and into the bright light of the Nexus. She rubbed her eyes and groaned as Kandros gently nudged her forward. Together they made their way to the docks. It didn’t take long for the Pathfinder to lose interest in their walk. She bolted a few paces ahead of Kandros then whipped around to face him with a playful glare and fists.

 

“Fight me,” she commanded with what Kandros’ assumed was her ‘Pathfinder voice’.

 

He paused a moment from the shock. “What?” he asked dumbfounded.

 

“You heard me,” she spouted, “Fight me.”

 

Kandros shook his head and laughed to himself. Of course, he would be the one to deal with a drunk little human who was biting off more than she could chew. “You can’t be serious,” he lightly chuckled.

 

Sara fighting stance dropped with her hands slapping against her thighs with a huff. “Come on, Kandros,” she whined. She stared him down for a second before giving the large turian a smack in the chest. She started to dart and dance around him as if dodging attacks, her tiny fists protecting her head. “Afraid I’ll fuck your shit up?” she asked in between dramatic breaths.

 

All Kandros could do was chuckle as he swatted her weak blows away from his chest. He was going to savour this moment. Once she sobers up, she’ll love to hear about how she tired to pick a fight with the head of the Nexus Militia. She knows she would lose. Right?

 

“Fight me!” she insisted again. Her voice way beginning to carry.

 

“No,” Kandros said with a finalizing tone. Not wanting to entertain her antics, he pushed by her and grabbed her arm as he went. 

 

She weakly squirmed in his grasp with her other hand pushing against his arm. “Come on!” she groaned and threw her head back.

 

This was getting old, fast. That annoying little pinch was happening behind his eye again. “No. You’re drunk.” The grip on her arm tightened slightly as she struggled. He continued to march forward dragging her behind him, her feet childishly stompping.

Sara giggled a little to herself and shrugged. “Drunk fisticuffs are the best fisticuffs,” she slurred. Her resistance against his grip stopped as she concentrated on walking straight.

 

“What?” Kandros asked confused. He stopped their march to turn and face her, his mandibles fluttering in annoyance. “What’s a fish-a-cups?” If he could make his subvocals sound more irritated, he would. Not that it would do any good on her weak human ears anyway.

 

Sara responded with a hearty laughter that made her stop to grip her side with her free hand. She wheezed and snorted as Kandros grew more irritated with each growl he made. “Ha! You’re a fish-a-cup,” she choked in between laughs. “That’s hilarious!” She wiped at the tears forming in her eyes.

 

Kandros growled to himself, trying to maintain what composure he had left. “What does that even mean?” he asked. Knowing her, she was insulting him with one of her stupid jokes that no one but her found funny.

 

She took a moment to collect herself, little giggles and snorts escaping her. “Means you’re a punk ass wuss,” she suddenly shouted at him. Sensing his grip release, Sara seized her moment and lurched her arm free from the turian’s grasp and resumed her fighter’s stance. “Now, fight me!” she roared.

 

What the hell just happened? Kandros sprang to catch her, but she darted left causing him to stumble forward. He regained his footing and turned to see her once again dancing around him preparing to strike. His patience was wearing very thin. “Spirits,” he sighed, “No, I will not fight you.” 

 

Sara’s fists dropped as her head fell back with a loud groan. “Why not?” she whined.

 

Kandros locked his eyes with hers. “Which reason do you want to hear first?” he asked as he folded his arms over his chest.

 

“Psh!” Sara blew out and waved him away. “I knew it,” she boasted with a hand on her hip. She stuck her finger out at him and smirked. “You’re scared,” she mocked.

 

Kandros was taken aback. He scoffed and looked around briefly to see if anyone had noticed them yet. Thankfully, not. “What?” Kandros huffed. “I am  _ not  _ scared of you,” he clarified.

 

Sara gave a dramatic cackle then took a step towards him. “Then prove it and fight me,” she demanded.

 

“Why are you so insistent upon this?”

 

Sara paused a moment, the spark that blazed behind her blue eyes quieted as her smirk faded and pulled into a frown. The moment came and went, Sara’s cocky grin returned and her voice bellowed even louder. “You said I could always come to you, right? To vent.”

 

Kandros hands gestured for her to quiet down as he surveyed the area once more. He noticed a couple heads poking out to see what the commotion was. Surprise! It’s your Pathfinder, yelling and drunk, picking a fight with the only person trying to help her.

 

“Yes,” Kandros said and stepped closer to her. If he made a sudden attempt to grab her again, she would just run. “But what does that have to do with this?” he gestured to all of her. She swayed side to side still holding an air of confidence so matter how stupid she looked. Typical human.

 

“Well,” she began, “this is me wanting to vent. I just do it with my fists.” She playfully struck the air a few times, grunting with each swing.

 

Kandros rolled his eyes. “That would explain a few  _ adventures _ of yours,” he mumbled under his breath.

 

“What did you just say, Mumbles?” She questioned crudely.

 

Kandros held his hands up in defense. “You were just in Vortex giggling and singing about being ‘a rocket man’. You don’t seem like an angry drunk.” He gingerly held out his hand for her to take, “Let me take you back to your ship so you can sleep this off.” His tone this time around was softer, a little more friendly. A human saying came to mind. Something about gathering insects with honey?

 

Sara scoffed and rolled her eyes. “That’s the last place I want to be right now.” She crossed her arms and shunned Kandros’ hand.

 

His hand retracted slightly and his brow plates rose. There was something about the defeat in Ryder’s voice that made him uneasy. “Why is that?” he asked.

With a wave of her hand she dismissed him again. “Kandros, come on!” she moaned, “I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” She dropped her arms and sighed. “I just wanna--fight, or something. I don’t even know what I want right now.” Suddenly, she plopped right down on the ground, legs kicked out, messy bun falling, and a scowl that rivaled Tann’s.

 

What in the hell is going on? Kandros felt like he was running out of options of what to do with her. She didn’t want to go to her ship, he couldn’t leave her at the bar, and he  _ definitely _ couldn’t put her in a cell for her to sleep it off. Imagine dealing with that the next day. Kandros shuddered at the thought. She really wasn’t leaving him with any other choice.

 

I can’t believe I’m doing this, Kandros thought. He took a breath, opened his omni tool and placed a call to Militia H.Q. where the salarian answered.

 

“Hello, sir!” She greeted. “What can I do for you?”

 

He cleared his throat, “Took care of the noise complaint. I’m heading home for the rest of the night.” He didn’t wait for a reply before he hung up and faced the human sitting on the ground.

 

Kandros sighed and offered her his hand again. “Come on I’ll take you back to my apartment. You can sleep there,” he said reluctantly. He waited for her to take his hand. 

 

Sara stared at his odd three fingered hand and groaned. She slapped her palm against his and hoisted herself up. “Oh great! More walking,” she complained. As she stumbled forward she caught herself on Kandros’ arms and chest. She righted herself quickly enough, only relying on him a little for balance. Gruffly, she adjusted her jacket and scarf before walking in the opposite direction of the residential area. “The residential blocks are all the way down--that way, somewhere.” She pointed left, then right, then up; her arms flailing about as she yelled.

 

Using her vulnerability as an opening, Kandros snagged her arm again. “Come on, Ryder,” he whispered into her ear as he pulled her close. “You’re making a scene,” he said, “The people don’t need to see their Pathfinder drunk in the middle of the docks.”

 

She seemed to sober at the thought and pulled her shoulders back. “Yeah, I guess,” she said with a hushed tone. “My charm and charisma won’t be able to smooth that over with Tann.”

 

Kandros turned her around and began walking them to the residential blocks. He gave a soft chuckle, “Since when do you think your  _ charm and charisma _ can get you anything?” he commented.

 

Ryder glanced up at him with a look he had never seen on her before. “It’s getting me to your apartment, isn’t it,” she smirked and let her eyes slowly trail him up and down.

 

Not taking her seriously, Kandros sighed and continued walking forward. “Please don’t make me regret this,” he begged.

 

Sara scoffed and laughed, “If I had a credit for every time I heard that.”

 

Kandros gave her a brief glance before facing forward again. “If that isn’t a cry for help, then I don’t know what is,” he joked.

 

Sara gave him a shove and giggled. “I’m not crying for help,” she clarified, “I’m trying to be funny.”

 

“Self-deprecating humor seems to be your specialty,” the turian retorted.

 

“Ha!” Sara laughed, “‘Specialty’ implies that I’m good at it!”

 

A heavy groan escaped him, “No, it doesn’t,” he said.

 

Sara gasped. “You think I’m funny!” she exclaimed.

 

“No, I don’t.”

 

“Of course you do! I mean how could you not--”

 

“Easily.”

 

Sara laughed loudly again as she slapped the arm that held her. “Careful there, Kandros. If you keep sweet talking me like this, I’ll start to think you like me.” She playful clenched onto his arm and snuggled against his armor.

 

Kandros fought the urge to pull away. Her affections were putting him in an uncomfortable position. “I like you when you’re not drunkenly flailing about,” he chastised. 

 

Sara gasped and covered her mouth while still holding his arm. “You do like me!” she blurted out.

 

“Right now, I’m tolerating you,” he corrected.

 

“Yeah,” she scoffed. “And to turians that’s only a step down from ‘Like’, right?”

 

Kandros groaned quietly. “Will you please keep it together?” he begged.

 

“But, Kandros. How can I when my heart’s all aflutter?” Sara answered sweetly and batter her weird human lashes at him.

  
“Ryder?” he asked seriously.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“OK,” she answered calmly with a small smile that made her cheeks look even more round.

 

They walked in silence for only a minute, maybe more, still close together. Kandros lowered the hold on her arm down to her wrist so she could wrap her small hand around his arm in return. It wasn’t long before Sara spoke up again.

 

She jostled his arm gently to get his attention. “Kandros, you act like my sarcasm is something new.”

 

His shook his head in response. He knew her, how she liked to joke around or tease her friends and anyone who was  _ graced _ with her presence. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you be this vocal with it,” he said. He stared straight ahead, watching to see if any passersby were up and about. Ideally, there would be no witnesses to the Pathfinder entering his apartment.

 

Sara smiled to herself, not looking up at her companion. “You know I’m just teasing you, right? Just being playful.” She was enjoying his presence, despite his cold behavior. 

 

Playful, she calls it. The Pathfinder has been flat out flirting with him, and all she can say is she’s being playful. Hilarious. Kandros felt a knot forming in his stomach and a heat rushing through his veins. It’s not that he was nervous, just caught off guard. “I-um,” he began, but failed. He paused a moment and collected himself. “Hm,” he groaned. “I thought that’s what humans did with their friends.” He had noticed her teasing the human male, Liam, and that new angara. He never really imagined himself as a target for her banter.

 

“I consider us friends, Kandros,” she said confidently. Her smile brightened a little. “And turians don’t tease their friends?” she asked and nudged him in his side.

 

He barely felt her elbow dig into him. “Well, yes, we do. But not like...um… What you were doing,” he stuttered.

 

She blinked in thought and then looked up to him, craning her neck back to make eye contact. “What was I doing?” she questioned.

 

Kandros quickly cleared his throat. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

 

Sara tugged on his arm and caused him to let go of her wrist. “What? You can’t deflect like that!” Her voice had a certain squeak to it that made Kandros wince. Humans and their loud voices.

 

“Didn’t stop you before,” he replied curtly.

 

Sara huffed. “Don’t change the subject.” Another lazy jab to his side as she gracelessly hung from his arm.

 

“Why don’t you want to go back to the Tempest?” It was a reasonable question, he thought. From what he knew of, the Pathfinder was having great success with her crew. A few bumps along the way, but that was expected. Being forced into a roll of leadership was difficult, as Kandros knew for himself.

 

Her grip went slack and she stepped away from him. “Kandros, please,” she groaned, “I’m sobering up. I can’t do this talk sober.”

 

Kandros chuckled to himself and took a step towards her. Best to stay close if she needed him. “You’re about as sober as I am drunk,” he said.

 

Sara squinted and sent him a playful stare with a pout. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were saying that I’m still drunk.” She attempted to challenge him with her hands on her hips and defiant stance.

 

Kandros paid her no mind and spun her around with a quick flick of his wrist. He followed it up with a nudge forward down the corridor. “I can see the reason they made you Pathfinder. It’s those detective skills of yours,” he quipped.

 

Sara gasped with joy and leapt in the air only to stumble as she landed. She laughed and clapped her tiny hands in front of her face where she sported a toothy smile. “You just teased me!” she cheered, “Good job!”

 

“Alright, alright,” Kandros waved her glee away and gestured to the large door on their left. “We’re here. Excuse the mess. Wasn’t planning on hosting.” He fidgeted with his omni tool and the door slid open with a hiss. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said and held out his arm for her to enter then flicked on the lights.

 

She slowly stepped forward, glancing around at his bare walls and empty home. A couch and coffee table sat in the center of the large room with a humble kitchen to the right that appeared to be rarely used. Opposite the couch was a large T.V. mounted on the wall above short shelving where datapads and spare ammo collected. There was a door, slightly ajar, that lead to what Sara assumed to be Kandros’ bedroom. She instantly felt a flutter in her stomach that wanted to know what was beyond there, but she stilled the urge with what discipline she had left with her drunk mind.

 

“I’ll get some bedding,” came Kandros’ voice up behind her. He carefully made his way into another room off on the side. A bathroom? Maybe. She would figure it out later.

 

While alone, she sauntered over to the couch and gave the room another once over. No pictures or anything anywhere. Typical Kandros. “Thanks for letting me crash here,” she said loud enough for him to hear, “I owe you one.”

 

He came back into the room holding blankets and a small pillow in his long arm, with a glass in his other hand. “Don’t worry about it,” he said shyly. He pushed the glass out towards her, “I brought you some water.” He gave it an extra push into her hands when she didn’t move to take it.

 

With the water forced into her hand, she looked up to find his blue eyes looking everywhere but her. She felt her lips quirk a little, thinking how adorable he appeared in at the moment. The water was more needed than she realized as she quickly began to gulp it down, savoring the cool sensation. 

 

Kandros cleared his throat, “Sorry, I don’t have any of your human painkillers.” He scratched at a spot behind his neck, suddenly nervous and uncertain of how to care for a human. “Don’t get much company here, let alone human company.” He attempted to laugh the comment off, he stuttered to a stop when he caught Ryder’s half lidded gaze.

 

Pausing mid sip, Sara sent Kandros a fiery look. She moved the glass from her mouth and carefully let her tongue graze along her bottom lip, all the while letting her smile slowly morph into a smirk. “I find that a little hard to believe. Good looking turian like yourself, I’m sure you’ve seen your fair share of the ladies.” She let her eyes glide up him, then down. 

 

Her sultry tone was practically making Kandros go deaf. Too many things happening at once. The alcohol, the flirting, the staying at his place...more of the flirting….

 

Kandros snapped his mouth shut that he didn’t even realize was hanging open. “I really don’t know how to respond to that,” he fumbled.

 

Pleased with herself, Sara brought the glass back up for another swig of water. “Don’t have to. Just a fact,” she said pointedly.

 

Stepping around her towards the couch, Kandros cleared his throat again and plopped the bedding down on the cushions. “You’re rather,” he paused to find the right word, “ _ bold _ , tonight.”

 

Finishing the glass, Sara turned to him. “Tonight, today; you can never really tell with the Nexus can you?” 

 

These little playful remarks have to stop. Kandros began fluffing the extra pillow and dropped it at the end of his couch. He yanked the bedding up and let the sheet flow onto the cushions, quickly making up Sara’s bed. “How did you end up at the Vortex?” He would try to direct their conversation to something more stable; less blood rushing involved the better.

 

With a shrug she plopped down on the fresh sheet. “I walked there.”

 

Great, they were back to this again. Kandros closed his eyes and took a breath. “You know what I mean.” He gestured to her to scoot over with a curt wave of his hand, then sat beside her. He made sure to keep a fair amount of distance between them, just in case.

 

Sara began quick work of her shoes and sat them together on the side of the couch. She pulled her legs up to her chest, crossing her arms over her knees and nestling her chin in the crook of her elbow. “I wanted to forget a little. Just cut loose.” Her eyes remained fixed on the T.V. sitting across from them.

 

Kandros stared at the same spot, not feeling quite ready to look at her again. He began snapping the clasps of his armour, slowly hoisting it over his head while he spoke. “Forget? Did something happen?” The chest piece was heavy in his hands, but the weight brought with it a comfort that few people did.

 

Her head bobbed backwards to rest on the couch, then rolled to the side to look at him. Those bleary eyes struggled to focus on the turian beside her. He just looked like a grey blob. “Can I have something a little stronger than water?” she asked, well knowing she would regret it soon.

 

“No,” came the stern reply. Kandros bent down and began working on his shin guards and boots. “Besides, I don’t have any liquor for your weak little human tummy anyway.”

 

Sara’s face twisted into a playful sneer and brushed off his comment with a wave of her hand. “I’m going to be throwing up tomorrow morning anyway,” she laughed, “So, what’s it matter?”

 

Kandros turned to face her as one of his brow plates raised in slight annoyance. “I won’t have you simply throwing up some of my stash that I brought with me from the Milky Way.” He sat back against his couch with a heavy sigh and let his gaze wander back to the wall.

 

Sara sighed along with a: “Fair enough,” then faced the T.V. again.

 

There was a comfortable silence that they both snuggly fit into. A soft hum from the Nexus, warm dim lighting from the standing lamp in the corner, and the blank void of the T.V. staring back at them. Something about it all felt surreal, like they both were suspended in time for a fleeting moment. A moment that was a much needed pause in the forced static of day-to-day living in Andromeda. These few minutes of quiet, of utter stillness, felt like a breath of air and a weight lifted off the shoulders.

 

Carefully, Kandros peaked over at the little human. Her feet were now tucked under her, her legs bent in but fanned open in what he assumed was a comfortable position. The lopsided bun she once sported had collapsed, hair-tie probably lost along their journey to his place. Even breathes, with the rise and fall of her chest, gave her clarity. He found himself timing between each breath, finding solace in the distraction. Watching her move, lethargic from the alcohol and wear of the day, calmed him in a strange way. Everything was moving so slow that he didn’t want it to stop.

 

He took a moment to ready his voice, not too loud to disturb their peace.“You going to tell me what happened?” he asked, just above a whisper.

 

Her eyes lazily rolled up to the ceiling. A slow blink, then another sigh. “I’m tired Kandros,” was all she said.

 

She looked it, too. Kandros chuckled to himself and found himself trying to mimic her aura. Calm, steady, slow. “I imagine you are,” he whispered. He turned fully to face her, one leg bent up onto the couch while the other stretched out behind him. “You drank quite a few of those experimental drinks.”

 

She didn’t move. “No,” she began, then swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “I mean, I’m  _ tired _ . I didn’t want this,” a single hand raised and gestured to everything with a spin of her wrist, “to be the Pathfinder.” Her hand fell back in her lap with a thump.

 

“Oh,” was all he could say. He began fiddling with his gloves, for whatever reason, to steady himself. He never was the best with handling these emotions. Not that many people thought that they were.

 

Her gaze never left the ceiling, as if she would somehow find her God up there. Maybe she would, along with an explanation. “I sometimes wish I could just give it to Cora and call it a day.” Her voice was broken, a little strained with a burden Kandros was familiar with. A slow inhale, then exhale. “I want to wash my hands clean of this mess. I’m not cut out for this.”

 

Kandros scratched the back of his neck and nodded in sympathy. “We’ve all had to step up and fill positions we weren’t ready for, or even wanted,” he said with a light groan. Wait a second. Was that the right thing to say? Spirits. Kandros’ ‘glove-fiddling’ escalated into ‘glove-wringing’; he somehow managed to take them off without realizing. “Hm, I m-mean…” he stuttered to a stop. He was doing well there for a little bit.

 

Sara dropped her head to the side to look at him. His long fingers strangling defenseless gloves and his mandibles fluttering against his jaw in a nervous attempt at a turian pout. It almost made her smile to see him struggle. So reserved most of the time, and here he was stumbling over what to say in a moment of comfort.

 

Kandors sighed in self defeat. “All I’m trying to say is I get how you feel.” He felt her eyes heavy on him, studying--watching.

 

Throw in family death and a coma, then maybe Kandros would get how she felt. It put a bitter taste in Sara’s mouth at the thought, but she pushed it away. Someone was listening to her, someone who actually wanted to listen out of genuine concern. Not that people haven’t cared before, it was just that she needed to start letting them in instead of blowing them off with a sarcastic joke.

 

She nodded at him in response then sluggishly readjusted her seat to face him. Her head still rested on the top of the couch’s back, her hands laced together and tucked between her thighs for warmth. 

 

Everything about her seemed so small, with the way she was curled in on herself reminded Kandros of a small child. In a way, she still was a child. Then again, one could argue the same about him.

 

“God, I remember the look Cora gave me right when I woke up after...” she sighed in remembrance of her father’s passing, her eyes dilated a fraction and the pull at the corner of her lips dropped as she spoke. That spark faded, but then she pushed forward. “It was bitter acceptance,” she clipped. Her hand quickly came up and waved off the ill intent behind her tone as her head bobbed from the alcohol. 

 

With her lips pursed slightly she began the removal of her scarf and jacket. “She’s been very supportive, don’t get me wrong,” Sara continued, “But I can tell she’s still upset. I would be if I was her.” Once she wormed free, the jacket and scarf were casually tossed on the armrest of the couch. “I tried to turn this all down, but with the sudden transfer of SAM from my dad…”

 

It happened again. The light dulled behind her eyes, like something distant was taking her away from this and making her relive that moment in time she was so desperately trying to forget with each drink from the Vortex. Kandros couldn’t quite tell if the emptiness he now saw in her was because of the loss of her father, or something else that was buried deep in her past.

 

And like a flash, that void in her expression was gone and replaced by the forced redirection of her attention to him. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” she blinked a few times and fidgeted with her hands only to rub roughly at her naked arms. “We weren’t close, but I still admired him so much--wanted to make him proud,” she tried explaining, but ceased with a curt sigh. “Now he’s just...gone.”

 

Death was something Kandros knew plenty about. It was something all turians were trained on, though experience was always a better teacher. The brief memory of a comrade dying in his arms during his first encounter with the kett pulled at his chest and gave him a moment of pause. Though he didn’t know the man well, part of him still grieved even afterwards, he felt that pain and loss despite it all. Death was never easy, it didn’t matter who you were or how much you encountered it.

 

Slowly, Kandros lifted his hand, his two long fingers still curled inward, and gingerly reached out to Sara. Minding his talons, he placed his hand carefully on her slender shoulder and gave a gentle squeezed. He felt terribly awkward, avoiding her eyes and only staring at the contact they shared on her arm. He prayed he was doing this right.

 

Sara softly smiled down at her lap where her hands finally stilled, her head swimming in booze. “I’m sorry to drop all this on you. Probably weren’t expecting a drunk breakdown, huh?”

 

Kandros felt the faint flutter of his mandibles as he playfully tested her. “Those usually accompany drinking binges.” His eyes darted upward to gauge her response.

 

He was met with a growing smile she was trying to hold back with a bite to her bottom lip. “Are you trying to make me laugh?” she asked without looking up.

 

He chuckled quietly then craned his head forward to peek up at her. “Is it working?”

 

Her blue eyes peeped through her lashes at him. “Yeah, a little,” she said with a smile.

 

“Good.”

 

She brought her attention fully to him once more, then glanced down at his hand that lingered on her shoulder. “You’re not terrible at this comforting thing.” The smirk that followed signaled to Kandros that Sara was possibly reading something into his gesture.

 

He awkwardly lifted his hand from her shoulder and clenched his hand as if trying to protect himself from the sudden fire she was emitting. The way her emotions bounced back and forth was confusing him. Maybe that’s just the way she was? Or it was the alcohol. Probably the alcohol.

 

“That’s a relief,” he responded stiffly. “I have no idea what I’m doing right now.”

 

She bit her lip and gave the hand that just held her a steady look. “This awkward thing you’re doing right now,” her hand gestured to all of him, “is pretty cute. It’s also helping.”

 

And here we go again. Kandros pulled his head back and straightened his shoulders to regain the higher ground. He cleared his throat then pushed himself backwards towards the opposite end of the couch. “It’s hard to comfort you when you keep shamelessly flirting with me like that.”

 

She blew him off with a wave of her hand. “It’s what drunk people do. We shamelessly flirt. What’s a matter Kandros? Can’t handle it?” Her challenge left a certain kind of  _ charge _ in the air.

 

The charge felt, for lack of a better word,  _ weird _ . He should have left her from the very beginning, getting her bedding and then retiring to his room. But something made him stay, just to make sure she was alright. She was the Pathfinder, she brought them hope, the least he could do was listen to her woes. Yet, it felt different than obligation. Despite her playful, overly casual, and frankly a little annoying approach, she wasn’t all that bad to just talk to. He had experienced her company before tonight and had no complaints. 

 

But while she sat in his living room, letting him see a new, more raw, side of her, she gave him those eyes that darkened and burned in a way he hadn’t seen in years--let alone directed at him. It made him nervous and curious at the same time. She had no idea what she was doing right now and undoubtedly didn’t actually mean any of the things she suggested. She was just being drunk.

 

“I’m not encouraging this,” he responded as a heat danced up the back of his neck. His arms crossed over his chest and sent her a cold stare.

 

Sara threw her head back with a groan that melted into a laugh. “You know, witty, playful banter is a two way street. I give and give, and get nothing in return.” She decided to mirror his stance with a mocking pout.

 

A brow plate rose as Kandros eyed her from the other end of the couch. “You’re going to regret this tomorrow,” he warned.

 

Sara dropped her arms in her lap and gave a dramatic sigh as her shoulders slouched. “Come on! Don’t be a Buzz Killington!”

 

Kandros paused a moment to process what she just said. “What’s a Buzz Killington?” he asked.

 

She thought on his question, the little gears grinding away in her head to find the best explanation. “Someone who kills the buzz,” she said calmly. Then a glint in her eye gave life to her  growing smile. “Or the fun,” she said as an afterthought, then snapped her fingers a new idea struck her. “A fun killer. A fun  _ destroyer _ !” Her sudden maniacal giggles sent her rocking backwards to knock her head against the armrest and pillow of her jacket.

 

“Alright,” he said loudly over her storm of giggles, “maybe it’s time for you to get some sleep.” He stood quickly and reached for the fluffy pillow.

 

Sara silenced her giggles and sat up to crawl across the couch, stretching out for his long arm that dangled from her reach. “Kandros, don’t go!” she whined. Her slim, little fingers were grasping at the air, begging him to look back to her. “We had a little rapport going! It’s like a game. You can do it,” she encouraged.

 

Kandros ignored her with a shrug of his shoulder. “There’s a trash can beside the couch. Here’s your pillow. Go to sleep. I’ll be just in the other room.” With that, Kandros turned to make his way to the door at the far end of the room that Ryder now knew was his bedroom.

  
In a ditch effort, Sara pushed herself forward and made a grab for his elongated fingers. Her hands squeezed around his bare talons and warmed him. “Kandros, stay and play with me!” she slurred.

 

With a soft yank from her grasp and a huff, “Your choice of wording leaves a lot to be desired,” he said with a slightly annoyed tone.

 

Sara blew her bangs up from her eyes and smirked at him, her body twisting and shirt riding up as she squirmed on his couch. “I’m only teasing you!” she exclaimed with a dramatic wave of her hand. “Please stay. I wanna talk more still.” The hand she was just waving fell, her arm draping over her eyes that fluttered shut, trying to bring some stability to her spinning head.

 

Kandros sighed and scratched the back of his leathery neck. “For someone that says they want to talk you sure do a lot of deflecting.” He took a small step towards her on the couch.

 

She was still sprawled out, arm over her face hiding her eyes, one leg propped up on top of the armrest while the other hung over the edge of a couch cushion. “I’m sorry, alright,” she mumbled and rubbed her eyes in the crook of her elbow. “I’ve never been very good about...feelings.”

 

Her tone reminded him of himself in times like this. It was almost a forgotten feeling, the hopelessness that one tried to hide under duty and busywork. “I can understand that,” he muttered back, a heavy pang settling in his gut at the remembrance of what was his former life.

 

She twisted again into the cushions, almost burying her face into the bottom of the couch. Her blue eye peeked up at him through the bangs that fanned across her forehead. She looked ridiculous. “Sit with me,” she sheepishly asked.

 

Kandros crossed his arms and took another small step, now standing beside her head. She was barely reaching the height of his knees. “Will you behave?” he asked, throwing in a bit of his ‘Head of Militia’ voice.

 

With a long full body stretch and smirk, she winked at him, “No promises,” she said.

 

He dropped his arms with a huff and bent down to lift her up by her shoulders and push her back to her designated side of the couch. “Whatever,” he gruffed.

Sara laughed a little at the shove and limping fell back against her armrest. “It’s nice to see you relaxing a little,” she said and gave Kandros a friendly poke with her foot. “You’re usually so professional with me.”

 

Kandros returned her gesture with a warning look, his eyes locking with her bleary set that couldn’t focus on him.

 

“What?” she asked with a defensive tone, her hands coming up to shield herself. “I’m not flirting, I’m just making an observation,” she assured.

 

Kandros turned away and began focusing on the opposite wall once more. “Hm,” was all he said. He never did move her foot away; it wormed it’s way under his thigh and sat there comfortably.

 

They were quiet for a few moments, the purr of the Nexus gently lulling them into a relaxed state. It reminded Sara of swinging in a hammock during twilight hours with dim flashes of fireflies blinking in the air. 

 

An easy sigh escaped Sara despite the spinning in her head. “Tell me a little about yourself,” she whispered in the quiet room. It seemed almost wrong to disturb the silence.

 

Kandros gave a snort and glanced in her direction before balancing his arms atop his knees. “Not much to tell. You know why I’m here, family background, my job. What else is there?”

 

Sara was quiet for a second. “Well, there’s you,” she baited.

 

Kandros fully turned to her. “Not sure I follow,” he hesitated.

 

Sara gave him a tender smile. “Your family and your job are parts of you, but not necessarily who you are. There’s more to you than just your military family name and title.”

 

An awkward kind of fluttering start in Kandros’ stomach that gave him pause.“I’ve never had to talk about myself before,” he muttered and shyly blinked at her. “It’s a little uncomfortable.”

 

Sara leaned forward. “No pressure. Here, I’ll start.”

 

* * *

 

The morning cycle felt like it came faster than normal for Kandros. Given that he and Ryder had stayed up most of the night talking, it wasn’t surprising. They eventually did go to sleep, Ryder on the couch and Kandros in his room, despite her efforts to get him to cuddle with her (saying she needed a ‘snuggle buddy’). Kandros had rolled his eyes so hard at that that he had given himself a headache. After shoving her away for possibly the hundredth time that night, he managed to get her tucked into bed and himself safely in his locked bedroom. Spirits, how he needed sleep.

 

Kandros woke up earlier than Ryder and stepped out of his room in his casual clothes to find her on the couch. Her body still snug under the bedding he had wrapped her in and a small puddle of drool soaking into the pillow. If he didn’t know any better, he would think she was dead. He briefly wondered if that’s how she always looked when she slept. 

 

With no more energy put to the thought, Kandros quietly left his apartment and made his way down to the commons area of the Nexus. Not many people were up and about yet, leaving an eerie sort of hushed whispers as the only ambiance. In a way, the early morning calm brought Kandros a moment of peace.

 

He stopped at his favorite small cafe and purchased Ryder some food, a sandwich and coffee. On his way back to his home, he took a detour to a general goods store and picked up another item before making his way back to the residential blocks. 

 

He felt awkward, not only from carrying too many items, but in anticipation of what might happen once he stepped through his front door. Last night wasn’t something he planned to happen, especially with Sara Ryder. How would she feel about all of this? Probably embarrassed given everything she said and did. But where did that leave them? They were colleagues, professional acquaintances, not friends. Right? 

 

With a final breath, Kandros unlocked his front door and stepped into the silent room. He glanced around and found Ryder asleep on the couch. He released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

 

Carefully, he walked forward and sat everything on the coffee table. He bent over slightly and placed his large hand on her tiny shoulder with a gentle nudge.

 

“Pathfinder,” He whispered so as not to startle her, his hand nudging her once again.

 

She remained unfazed, only a muted snore from her face pressing deeper into the pillow.

 

Kandros strengthened his grip and gave her a mild shake. “Ryder,” he said a little louder. Another shake, “Ryder.”

 

At that, her head stirred and rose with a couple of slow blinks of registration. Her eyes quickly squinted shut and her brow furrowed as the pain set in. “Oh Lord. My head,” she groaned back into the pillow. Slowly, she pushed herself up on shaky arms and into a sitting position, her head gently rolling backwards to rest on the couch. She gave a deep sigh.

 

Kandors couldn’t fight back the chuckle. “Not surprised,” he said and stood fully. He reached behind him and grabbed the small, warm paper bag from the cafe and a plastic bottle. “Here. I brought you some painkillers and food.” He dropped the painkillers and food onto her lap and turned away to give her space.

 

She fought to get her head back up, eyes struggling to open and look at the contents in her lap. She reached down and found the food he brought her, the smell giving her enough strength to move forward. It smelled heavenly.

 

“It’s a breakfast sandwich,” Kandros clarified, but it looked like Ryder didn’t need it from the way she held it to her face and took a slow, almost sensual bite.

 

She moaned softly between chews, steady heavy breathes through her nose, her eyes closed to bask in the savory sensations along her tongue.

 

The whole scene confused Kandros.

 

She paused the moment of her worship and sniffed the air. Her lidded eyes quickly found the tall white cup on the coffee table. “I smell coffee. Did you bring me coffee?” she asked with a full mouth.

 

Kandros paused a moment before answering. “Yeah,” he said cautiously, then picked up the cup to hand to her. “I wasn’t sure how you took it, so I just grabbed some things and such from the cafe I went to. I don’t know how humans mix this stuff, I just know none of you can seem to function without it.”

 

She didn’t bother listening to him, taking the cup from him and bringing it to her lips for a swig. She sighed in contentment. “Coffee is the lifeblood of the galaxy,” she said with a smile.

 

He eyed her carefully again. “So, I hear,” was his uncertain tone.

 

She finished her sandwich in another two bites, then took a long drink from her coffee. After crumpling up the wrapper in her hand, she stared down at the cup of coffee in her lap. “Thanks, Kandros,” she whispered meekly. “For everything. This is really kind of you.” She finally brought her head up to look him in the eyes.

 

Kandros found himself struggling to maintain contact and glanced away back to the untouched bottle of painkillers in her lap. “No problem,” he said as he reached forward to take the bottle back, open it, and dump a few pills into his palm. He held them out to her, his talons stretched open.

 

She pinched them between her fingers, then downed them with a gulp of coffee.“I wanted to apologize for last night,” she began as a tinge of pink prickled at her cheeks. “My behavior wasn’t entirely appropriate.You were nice enough to bring me to your home and let me sleep here, while I was loud and crude.” She fiddled with the opening of the cup of coffee, sticking her small pinky finger into the hole and scratching at it. “So, I’m sorry,” she finished with an embarrassed sigh.

 

Kandros crossed his arms over his chest and rested his weight to one side of his body, giving Ryder an amused look.

 

She glanced up at him through her shame to see him towering over her. One of his brow plates was quirked up and Sara swore she could see more of his teeth in a turian grin. “What?” she asked.

 

Kandros chuckled at her. “I told you you were going to regret all that in the morning.”

 

She groaned at his torment, at her humiliation, and at her acceptance of her actions. Her head felt like a snowglobe someone shook, the fake snow spin around in her skull. “I’m really sorry,” she said again with a hand on her head to quiet the noise. “God, you even got me breakfast. I feel like a total ass.” With another sip of her coffee, she began attempting to stand with only a wobble or two.

 

With a strong hand, Kandros steadied her by her shoulder then gave her a pat. “Relax, Ryder. Last night wasn’t all bad. Once you calmed down you were actually pleasant company.” He turned his back to her and began walking towards the kitchen.

 

His reassuring voice made a tiny light glow in her chest, warm and pleasant. “Oh. Um, thanks. I guess,” she fumbled. 

 

Kandros chose to ignore the embarrassed tone in her voice out of courtesy. “You’re welcome to freshen up. Shower is this way,” he said as he walked to a room off on the side.

 

She gave him a nod and quick “Thank you.”

 

“You’ve already said that three times this morning, Ryder.” He wasn’t annoyed, just amused. Earlier he had worried about possible tension between them, but this, this was just funny.

 

She smacked her palm against her forehead. “I’m sorry! I’ll--”

 

“Stop saying ‘sorry’,” he interrupted with a glance over his shoulder. They had both arrived at the bathroom, Kandros had reached in and grabbed a clean towel from a hook on the wall.

 

Flustered, Sara began to nervously pull at the ends of her hair. “Sorry--I mean, alright. It’s just that I’m kinda embarrassed after making an ass out of myself in front of you, then getting all emotional and--”

 

“Ryder.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Shut up.” Kandros’ tone remained soft as he pushed the towel at her chest and into her hands. He then walked away and left her in the bathroom.

 

“OK,” she said more to herself without turning around. All she heard way the sound of the door closing behind her.

 

Once Kandros heard the shower start, he opened up his omni tool and connected to the Tempest. The line was soon answered by a salarian that identified himself as Kallo.

 

Kandros cleared his throat. “Tiran Kandros, Head of Nexus Militia.” For whatever reason, he felt the need to stand a little taller when he said that, even though Kallo would certainly not be able to tell.

 

Kallo’s large eyes blinked. “What can I do for you?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

 

Kandros stepped further into his kitchen, creating as much distance as he could from the bathroom. “I wanted to inform you of Ryder’s whereabouts. She and I were catching up last night and lost track of time.” The lie came easy enough, though Kandros did feel a little dirty about it.

 

It seemed Kallo believed him fine, but the skeptical laugh of a krogan in the background, Drack, if Kandros remembered correctly, gave him worry.

 

“Ah, we were wondering where she ventured off to,” came Kallo’s calm voice. He paid the krogan no mind as he continued worked on his terminal.

 

If Kallo could ignore him, then so could Kandros. “Yes, sorry to make you worry,” he said and gave a quick glance towards the shower. The water had ceased flowing and Kandros knew Ryder would emerge within a few minutes. “She’ll be returning shortly. Again, sorry for the trouble.”

 

“No worries at all, Kandros.” Kallo waved him off with a smile and cut the line.

 

Keeping himself busy, Kandros set to work tidying up the couch Ryder slept on. He peeled the pillowcase off the pillow and balled up the remainder of the bedding. With a quick toss of the items into his hamper, he grabbed the bottle of painkillers from the coffee table and stored them in a cabinet in his kitchen. He felt better keeping them just in case.

 

As soon as the cabinet door shut, Ryder opened the bathroom with a cloud of steam billowing behind her.

 

Kandros turned around to see her fulling dressed, hair slightly damp from the steam of the shower and cheeks flushed. She was working the towel against the ends of her hair roughly, trying to dry them before pulling it all back into her signature ponytail. Little damp spot appeared on her shoulder where her hair had stuck too long.

 

Kandros stepped out of the kitchen making his way towards her. A similar fluttering from before began to settle in his stomach as she approached him as well.

 

She cleared her throat, avoiding Kandros’ eyes as much as she could. “I should let the crew know I’m not dead,” she gracelessly laughed and quickly snagged her jacket and scarf from the couch. With the final zip of her jacket, she pulled out her omni tool.

 

Kandros stopped her with his hand. “Already took care of that,” he said confidently, “Let them know you were on your way back.” Out of the two of them, he certainly needed to keep composure. Don’t make it weird, he kept chanting in his head.

 

Ryder distracted his inner mantra with a bite of her bottom lip. “Of course you did,” she sighed to herself as a new smile blossomed. “Thank you for that.” Her head hung low, in shame or embarrassment, Kandros couldn’t quite say. She seemed more reserved than before.

 

They shared more uncomfortable silence, Ryder rocking back and forth on her feet while Kandros scratched the back of his neck, neither one looking at the other.

 

Sara was the first to move. She gave a quick laugh and pointed at the door, then took a step in that direction. Catching onto her meaning, Kandros did the same. They both bumped into the other, paused and then tried to convince the other to go first instead. Kandros finally stepped aside and waved his hand for her to go, thankful that she agreed.

 

He stepped behind her and opened the door with his omni tool and waited for her to step through. They stood that way for a few moments, neither one knowing what to say.

 

Kandros cleared his throat and rubbed his arm. “Will you, uh, be alright?” he dragged the question out, unsure if he should even be asking her that.

 

Sara directed her eyes downwards and scuffed her shoe once against the floor. “Yeah. I’ll be fine,” she sighed with a soft laugh of acceptance. “I mean, I gotta be. Don’t really have much else of a choice.” She finally brought her head up to look at Kandros, meeting his eyes for what felt like the first time.

 

She couldn’t tell exactly what color they were. Was is blue, or green? Or even a mix of the two? All she could see was how bright they were against the contrast of his dark skin. Paired with the white of his face plates, light blue markings, the angles of his mandible and jaw…

 

“Listen, Ryder. My door is always open to you,” Kandros began, breaking Ryder from her distraction. “You and I do the hard jobs that no one else can do. We need to stick together. Whenever you need to talk…” his soft voice trailed off, not sure how to finish.

 

Sara smiled back at him and diverted her eyes again. “I know where to find you,” was her gentle reply.

 

Kandros nodded to her and took a small step back. “Stay safe out there.”

 

Sara mirrored his movement and then gave him a light wave. She took two steps down the hallway, then turned back around with a sheepish look on her face.

 

She hastily licked her lips and choked on the tightness in her throat. “Hey, so, I um, I’ll probably be back at the Nexus in a few weeks or so. I would like to repay you for everything.” A moment of panic seized her and she quickly stuttered, “If that’s OK!” she exclaimed. “Would that be OK?” she hesitated.

 

Kandros felt his nerves working in his stomach again. “You don’t need to pay me back, Ryder,” he tried laughing off.

 

Sara returned the awkward laugh with one of her own. “Alright then,” she began. “Consider it two friends going out for lunch then.” 

 

Her challenge left him unsettled. “You shouldn’t throw that word around,” he said.

 

Confused, she cocked her head to the side. “What word?” she asked.

 

“Friend.” He glanced up to see her locking eyes with him once again. It was that intense kind of stare that felt like she was examining him a little too closely.

 

“I think we’re friends,” she tested, “At least starting to be.” Her hands found themselves hiding in her pockets, trying to not nervously fidget. “Do you not think we’re friends?” she questioned.

 

Kandros could only smirk in response and nod at her. “Starting to be,” he said back.

 

A smile lit up on Sara’s face. “Then that’s good enough for me,” she said softly. 

 

Kandros waved her off again to shoo her down the hallway. “Get going. Your crew is going to wonder where you are.” He was a little surprised at how playful his tone was.

 

“I’ll miss you too, new BFF!” she said back to him, then winced at the volume of her own voice as she made her way down the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> Writing the personality of a character that so far hasn't been given one is tricky. I hope I did Kandros justice. Please let me know your thoughts and feedback.
> 
> I had intended for there to be smut much later in the story. I'm a big 'feelings everywhere then passionate love happens' kind of person. I felt that I needed to build up the connection between these two before taking it into sex territory. 
> 
> Hit me up on Tumblr. http://lilithleelynn.tumblr.com/


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